Anonymous question regarding finding peace/balance with my transgendered feelings:
As soon as I discovered there was something called “transgender,” I knew that I most certainly was on some level. Moments after, I realized that I probably would never have it in me to do anything about it. Call me the lazy trans man, if you will. The older I got, the more the potential of transitioning became more and more of an impossibility, no matter how I looked at it. Between a “successful” singing career, a hugely unsupportive and already frighteningly unaware family, and the overwhelming and daunting task of changing into a different person – both in name and appearance, proved to be too much of a task for me to go through with. Honestly? I’m just not that brave.
I think there was a window of time where I could have committed and jumped in with both feet. It was sometime right when I started college. But then I had no idea that being trans and transitioning into a man even existed. So I naturally embraced trans’ lesbian cousin – being butch.
I’ve come to peace with my feelings by knowing internally and accepting that I’m not 100% a woman mentally. I’ve never been. Years ago, when I wasn’t talking about my family in therapy, I was talking about my internal gender struggles. I picked out a male name. I even worked at a place where the insurance would have covered gender reassignment surgery. But I couldn’t do it – not because I didn’t have those feelings, but because I couldn’t be bothered with the inconvenience and hassle of starting to transition at the age of 30. I also didn’t (and don’t) HATE my body the way that some transfolks do before they transition. I mean, it’s most certainly not the body I would have picked, by any means, but I’m not standing in the shower every morning cursing my breasts.
Just like I’ve come to peace with the fact that I’ll never be on MTV, I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll live the rest of my life as a woman, albeit reluctantly. It doesn’t make me any less sad when I think about the happiness I could have as a man – the way my outside would finally reflect my inside. My inner balance comes from knowing that there’s a disconnect between my brain and my body, but also knowing that it’s my choice to leave things as they are, and living the hand I was dealt.